Yuuhi
by sans nom
Summary: Tokiya and Fuuko share a meaningful conversation at the school rooftop one lazy afternoon.


**A/N: **Wai, old fandom (I used to be a lurker even before the manga was finished, Urk, that makes me old.), brand-new fic! I love these two! Two characters developed so well in the manga, plus, they're extremely pretty. Playing with them is so much fun! Please read it, then tell me what you think.

**Disclaimer:** Tokiya, Fuuko, and everyone else I mentioned in this fic belong to Nobuyuki Anzai. 

_What now? With the whole story laid out in front of me, and the only possible person to blame dead, what else is left to do?_

"Nothing," he murmured with a sigh. The wind seemed to agree as it played with pale blue hair.

It was two weeks since the end of their surreal adventure in Mori Kouran's playground. Everyone had happily settled into his/her peaceful life – schoolwork, chores, hanging out. Everyone, that is, except him.

For two weeks, he painstakingly replayed every single scene, again and again, like a crazed man: his beloved sister's murder, training under Meguri Kyoza, seeing his sister reincarnated in the form of Yanagi Sakoshita, his fight with Kai, Kai's words before his suicide, meeting his sensei again, what was perhaps the most heartbreaking fight in his life, every single, cutting word his sensei uttered, the decision not to kill him, the last few seconds before he finally di…

"No," he spoke firmly, trying desperately to put an end to his thoughts. "I will not regret…" He closed his eyes tightly, his breath ragged with agitation. Again, the wind blew softly, lazily tousling his hair. He calmed himself with much difficulty. A deep breath. A shake of the head. "No."

Seconds, perhaps minutes later, his heart slowed to a steady thump. Peace returned for a moment – one short, temporary moment.

His head turned sharply as a lithe figure entered his sanctuary at the Nashikiri High's rooftop. Dark blue eyes followed messy, brown hair until it reached the iron railing. Nimbly, she jumped over it and perched at the edge of the building, letting her legs dangle freely. He knew from experience that she had no fear of playing at the edge of a rooftop. With him and others, she had gone to hell and back a hundred times over. Falling off a three-storey building was nothing.

"Fuuko-san," he nodded in greeting, though he knew she could not see him.

Her soft sigh was audible despite the early autumn breeze. "Relax, Mi-chan. I'm not here to bother you. Rekka and his hime dumped me to gush at each other." Sharp eyes noted a slight movement of her hands. Her fingers tightly curled around the cement edges. "Domon was being too irritating," the words spoken almost automatically. After all, since when wasn't Domon irritating?

"I felt lonely," she added for good measure.

"Hn." _Don't we all?_

And they stayed like that for a long time. Him lost in his own thoughts, her swinging her legs as she gazed at the afternoon sun. This was the first time she was actually silent around him. _I should take down this date_, he later thought with great amusement.

He played with the image of long fingers curled around cement in his head. "Do you wish it was you?" he asked, finally breaking the silence. Strange how he was the one initiating conversation. Hokage has definitely _poisoned_ him.

She turned to him in confusion over his question, and surprise for his attempt at small talk – more of the latter.

"His hime," he clarified. "Do you wish his hime was you?"

Her eyes dropped uncomfortably. "No."

"Liar."

Defiant green met cool blue. Didn't she realize he was the master at masking emotions? Every bit of her being was screaming out the truth. _Silly girl._

"I never lie," she spat at him. "I don't care about being Rekka's hime. Not anymore."

The difference with Kirisawa Fuuko was that she actually attempted to play mind games with him. And for that, he found much amusement. Before, he took a step further by carelessly wounding her with painful words. She bit back by hitting him on the head, teasing him with ridiculous nicknames, pretending it was hardly nothing. Later, however, he did it to only wrestle out the truth from her. Like now.

"I wasn't talking about Hanabishi."

She deflated before him. She turned away from him to gaze at the dying sun. In truth, he had never seen her so sad in his life. "How did you know?"

"Domon told me," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. In his mind, he heard the man's tearful words as he blubbered to a horrified Tokiya about Fuuko loving a long-haired shinobi over him. What a harrowing but necessary experience. With great difficulty, he mumbled his next words, "He's not as stupid as you think."

A sigh. "You're right – on both things. Domon has his… moments. Raiha…" her voice dropped to a mere whisper. "Raiha, however, is an idiot."

Now he could have chosen to leave it at that. If there was one thing he did not excel at, it was having a serious conversation with a girl about a boy. Swordplay and trigonometry were much easier. Not to mention he had more experience. But Mikagami Tokiya was now a different man. For his sister's… no. For his own sake, he truly wanted to change. So he tried again.

"Would you…" a pregnant pause, "care to elaborate?"

Thank goodness she indulged him. Perhaps it was a combination of the cool breeze and the reddish glow of the sunset, maybe it was the nostalgic mood succeeding the traumatic events at SODOM. That one afternoon, Tokiya attempted to understand Fuuko, and surprisingly, she let him.

Her back still turned to him, she told him her story. "We would cross each other's paths multiple times. He always attributed it to fate. At first, I thought he was crazy. But after a while, I believed him. He saved me multiple times. Drowning, being trapped in a jar." Her eyes shone as she thought of him. "At times when I thought I was finished, he'd always save me. Do you know how it made me feel?" She turned to him earnestly asking him with her eyes.

_Helpless. Inadequate. Weak._ He wisely kept his mouth shut.

For the second time that afternoon, she surprised him. "He made me feel like I was a princess. His princess. For once, I was the one being saved from danger by someone who cared deeply for me. It was exhilarating." She leaned against the railing, facing him. He stole a look at her pink cheeks. _Still in love, I see._

"But two weeks ago…"

"_I am Kurei-sama's ninja. To anyone who goes against him, I must bring death – be it Mori Kouran," his gaze coldly met hers, "or be it you."_

He noted how she shivered as she recited the same lines Raiha had told her. He recalled Raiha's smiling face always directed at his Fuuko-san. He found it odd, at first. She was Uruha's enemy, but he treated her like a love-sick suitor – taking her out to 'explore the grounds,' training, asking to spend time with him. Later, upon getting acquainted with the rest of Uruha Jyushinshuu, he just found it plain creepy. The damn ninja was always smiling. He had to be hiding some evil bone deep down.

"Raiha was so cold, so cruel." Hot tears prickled her eyes. "Fighting him was too much. It hurt!" she suddenly cried out. She clutched at her chest in pain.

He quietly observed the distraught girl as she fell to her knees, quiet sobs blending with the mindless chatter of their classmates below, on their way home. "It hurt so much," she breathed. "I just wish he loved me more than he loved Kurei…"

Hearing her admission, he made another calculated decision. He would try to help her. After all Hokage had done for him, the least he could do was return the favor. And he would start with her. The opportunity was there. He chose his words carefully. After all the trouble he went through, he'd hate to blow it with his ineptitude.

He spoke in a quiet but even voice. "I do not know Raiha-san well enough to understand his actions toward you. Demo…" he approached her slowly, not wishing to startle her. "I do know you. And I know that despite what you say, you are not anyone's princess." He kneeled in front of her, his gaze level with hers. His eyes softened. "All those times that he saved you, you could have gotten out of those messes on your own because you are strong. Demo, since Raiha-san saved you again and again, you waited for him, hoping to see him once more. Raiha-san appealed to your girlish fantasies. You fell in love. But you don't need him."

"Nani? What do you think you're saying?" she cried, enraged. She jumped to her feet, fists clenched. There she was, a glimpse of the Fuuko he knew. Maybe he was doing something right for a change.

He followed suit, straightening before her. "You don't need a prince," he said while waving his hand with a slight air of impatience, "because you can take care of your damn self."

Her lips quirked into a slight smirk that suited him (he decided) much more than it did her. "Then, Mi-chan, tell me. What do I need?"

"Someone who will treat you as an equal. Not a prince who will walk ahead of you to shield you from danger. Not a ninja who will walk behind you to cater to your every wish. He should be beside you, trusting in your ability to handle yourself," he said eyeing her carefully, "but not above lending a helping hand out of concern."

He noted with relief the former wind goddess staring at him with widened eyes, his words sinking slowly in her head. After a long pause, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She tore her gaze away from his and settled at the now darkening sky.

"I never thought you'd be the one to drag me out of my slump."

He gave a small chuckle – a big feat for the once ice-cold swordsman. "A few months ago, I would have agreed with you. It's your fault. I would've been the same, indifferent Mikagami if not for you three monkeys."

She sighed. "I spoke too soon. You called me 'monkey' again."

"Gomen nasai. Some things will be more difficult to rid myself from."

Her eyes widened, spotting the twinkle in his. "Mikagami Tokiya, are you joking? Rekka will never believe you just cracked a joke. Kami-sama! Out of all of us, you've changed the most!"

"Hn," he almost-snorted, "I beg to differ. Domon changed the most by gaining IQ points."

"You're cruel."

"Some things will never change." He would never tire of their verbal sparring.

Together, they looked at the stars as they reflected on the things they just discovered about each other.

**- - - **

"Ne, Mi-chan. Your hair, you had it cut."

He unconsciously ran his fingers through his now cropped, blue hair. How _perceptive_

of her, he thought wryly, to notice it only after their trade of words. His fanclub noticed much earlier, judging from the horrified gasps he received that morning.

"_His beautiful hair!" exclaimed a classmate in sadness. _From the way she spoke, you would have thought it was she who had her long ponytail chopped off.

"Hai. Yesterday."

"Why?"

It was only fair that he indulge her.

"A long time ago," he closed his eyes to remember, "I made a vow – to find my sister's murderer, and kill him. After that, only then would I cut my hair. As you know, I… did no such thing." He took a deep breath to calm his shaking voice. "We met, the killer and I. But I chose not to kill him. I have let go of my vengeful ways. Kai, Meguri-sensei, they made me see that a life of hatred and vengeance brings only pain, not satisfaction, not happiness. I understand now," his azure eyes squeezed shut to halt the onslaught of tears. "I understand now what had happened, why it had to happen, who was not to blame." In his mind, he saw images of his sensei, no, grandfather teaching him the art of kendo; his parents whom he had only seen in yellowed photographs; his beloved sister, always smiling, even as she died protecting him. The images, they flashed quickly, repeatedly, were so blurry. "Mifuyu-neesan…" he croaked, before tasting salt in his lips. _Tears. He was in tears. Kami, after seven long years. _Her smiling face was now beside his parents – smiling, waving. "Mifuyu-neesan, gomen nasai. I have been blinded by hate." _I will be with you when it is my time. But for now, I must live._ "Rest assured," he smiled, "Toki-chan will be okay from now on."

With all of his defenses finally crumbling at his feet, his head bowed down as silent tears took over. _Crying is perfectly alright. There is nothing to be ashamed of_. He felt footsteps reminding him of his companion, then a hint of lavender. _Calming, soothing. Quite unlike her personality._

"I like it – your hair," she said softly, while fingering a strand, before brushing it away from his tear-stained face. He leaned into her touch. _Her hand is so warm._ "I like it short. It makes you look…"

He raised his eyes to meet her warm, caring ones.

"Happier." 

**A/N:** I'm such a tease. *shakes head* My attempt at writing a Tokiya-Fuuko scene post-SODOM. After reading the manga, I decided that Tokiya is definitely not the ice-man he used to be. He's actually more caring, which made me really happy. Fuuko, however, must have been devastated after her fight with Raiha. Early on, I knew the fight would happen but still. Geez. Raiha was such a jerk.

I can't believe RnH would bring me back to after almost a decade of not writing. As for my digimon fic, sorry, it's been discontinued. If I find the urge, I might continue, but for now… Until my next sporadic bout of inspiration. Ja!


End file.
